Unforgivable Hate
by queen of imladris
Summary: In Hermione's mind, Ginny has committed a crime that she can never forgive. No slash. Warnings- character death


Disclaimer- I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter. Happy?

A/N: This is Hermione's POV, age 34. Note that, while this is directed towards Ginevra Weasley, Hermione is not actually speaking to the girl. It is her thoughts.

Enjoy, and read my other fics!

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione's POV

I know you killed him. I know it, Ginny. Don't try to convince me otherwise. I know what you did. I mean, it's kind of obvious, at least to me.

You always hated him, didn't you? Not that I can blame you for that- I used to hate him, too…before he came to our side, the good side, to the Order. And even after that- I got used to him being around, but I still didn't like him. Even after his wife and son died, traitors to our cause. But then again, I got over my hate, my dislike. I eventually befriended him. But you…you always hated him. Always.

I could see it in your eyes, you know. It was a constant presence in your whole being, in fact, but mostly in your eyes. The burning hatred you felt for him resided in your coffee colored eyes, swirling like a permanent mist. I suppose that some of it is excusable- I mean, he did play a rather large part when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named possessed you in second year. Oh, wait, that was your first year, wasn't it? Sorry. It wasn't a very nice welcome to Hogwarts, was it?

But really… you didn't have to harbor such a grudge against him. Dislike is normal, Gin. It's a human emotion. But your hatred- that was inhuman.

You tried to discourage me when I dated him. It was when we had both received our jobs as Aurors for the Ministry, remember? He had asked me out to dinner that one night, and I was all nervous and jumpy beforehand. Not because I was afraid of what he might do, though; I was anxious because I had secretly admired and liked him for so long. You told me that it was dangerous, that I shouldn't trust him. And you know what? Part of my mind told me the same thing. But I didn't listen, and to this day I thank the fates that I did what I wanted to. When I came back that night, you listened patiently to my girlish tales and together we sat and giggled through the night, but I remember how you would give that slight frown whenever I mentioned him.

Everyone else was wary at the beginning, especially Harry, but they all warmed up to him as time went by. Only you remained behind. Why, Ginny, why?

And then what happened, Gin? I'm sure you remember. It was the happiest day of my life. 3 years and seven months to the day of our first date, I married him. I was so in love with him, and he with me. He was so handsome, so happy, and he had eyes only for me. It felt like a dream, Gin. A wonderful dream come true, because I had everything- a good job, enough money, a multitude of friends, and best of all, a man who loved me for everything that I was.

I knew you still didn't like him, even then, even though he made me so happy. But I underestimated your unhappiness. You see, I still thought that you would eventually get over your loathing for him. I thought that once I was married to him, and once you saw how content I was, you would get over it.

I was wrong, wasn't I?

The rest is still there. A week and a half spent in Paris for our honeymoon, and then eight years have flown by with hardly a glance, a steady stream of going to work, coming home, and all the rest of a happy home life, dotted with a vacation here or there. It was true happiness. All in all, there wasn't a moment when my love for him faltered, and I knew that his love for me was the same.

And all of a sudden I am standing out here, shielded from the rain by Harry's umbrella. I see that the hatred you felt for him is gone, replaced by a look of grim satisfaction. They'll never figure out that it was you; everyone thinks that some crazed ex-death eater killed him. I see you across from me, a little beacon of red hair. You are very pretty, Gin. Who knew that someone so pretty could be so cruel?

They are bringing him now. He looks so cold and pale, Gin, so unfeeling! Why did you kill him, Ginny? Why? I only had eight years with him. It's not enough! I'm only thirty-four! Widowed at thirty-four! I don't even have a child to remember him by, Gin! Why did you do this? Why! Why did you kill him? He was my life. My LIFE! I loved him! I still love him, but now he's gone! Why did you kill the one person who ever truly loved me? WHY?

He's here, and he's dead. And as I cry here on Harry's shoulder, you can know that the hate you once felt for him has been transferred to me, because I will never forgive and I will always hate the one who killed my Lucius.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Read and review, please. Thanks.


End file.
